My friend, Nik

I think everyone has that friend...the one where your mom and his mom are friends - you are around the same age and you are thrust together by circumstance as much as anything else. I had that friend.

Last week I learned that he had finally succumbed to the brain tumor he had been valiantly fighting for twice as long as the doctor's said he could. That was just Nik. In all honesty, I almost believed he would fight it off, because he was just THAT strong; that determined.

 I found out on Saturday, Jared's birthday. I cried, but I knew I couldn't grieve. Jared was counting on me to put together the party at our house, there was too much to do. I put my pain and sadness in a compartment to be re-visited later. There were moments of sadness, but always at inopportune times: church, work, at a friend's house for dinner. Again, I stuffed it back inside and moved forward.

Yesterday I read a post from his mom. She said, "It's interesting how, when your world stops....you sometimes look around at others nonchalantly going about their day and think "what are you THINKING?!! Don't you know what has HAPPENED?!?!?". 

It caught up with me. The memories. The pain. The sadness at a life such as his being taken. I didn't take the time to do it, so it creeped up and forced its way in. Last night, I couldn't sleep. When I did finally fall asleep, my dreams were memories of Nik and his friendship. We were the younger kids. Our older siblings played and "hung out" when they were teenagers, and Nik and I weren't included. You know how it is, we weren't as cool as them, or so they thought! We were thick as thieves when we were together.

I thought of his quiet demeanor, always taking things in first before acting or speaking. Some people took that quietness as shyness, but I knew he was really just thinking and examining the situation before jumping in. He was always smarter than me, but kind enough to not let me know. He laughed at all my jokes. We were total opposites, but friends for so long that we didn't let it stand in between our friendship. 

I remember, as a teenager, thinking that I wished I could be more like him; that I could be as brave as him. He was himself and made no excuses. He didn't try to fit in. He didn't try to change himself so that he would be more accepted and people loved him for that. I wished I could be more that way.  

His eyes were so blue. I felt like he could look into me and see the facade I sometimes put on. He was completely without guile. Never trying to be someone he wasn't. Never pretending.

He was my first friend. I am grateful for a religion and belief that I will see him again. Those blue eyes deserve to be seen again. 

To his mom I say, "Yes. We know what happened. Life, for me, will never be the same without your dear, sweet son."